No Good Deed

Story by Heuvadoches on SoFurry

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No Good Deed

by Heuvadoches Naumova

Author's Note:

This is part one of an old commission I took. I've decided to release this part of it and work on the second part later when I can work through the writer's block.

_ WARNING: The adult natured material within these pages includes (but is not limited to) very graphic depictions of: violent rape, magic, demonic themes, brutal torture, and forced transformation. Minimum age to read this story is 18 (21 in some areas). Absolutely no distribution to underage persons is permitted in any form at any time. If you, the reader, are offended by any of the above mentioned themes, anthropomorphic creatures, and/or hermaphrodites, please do not bother continuing._ Please enjoy responsibly. Thank you.


Even now, I can hear the gibbering screams of the poor souls. Some close, some distant, echoing across the unknown halls outside my cell. You get used to them, after a while ... the screams ... the crackling of the fires ... the ever-present smokes and smell of ... fear. Yes, fear. With its sharp, cloying scent, it mixes with the shorn copper tang of fresh blood, the dull, meaty odor of sweat and the rotten, acrid stench of bodily waste.

My naked, filth stained body shivers against the icy, damp rock as I hang from the thick manacles. The chain clanks and jingles as I shift, shaking my head again against the cold iron muzzle. The bitter taste of metal floods my mouth from a hollow brass sleeve soldered on to the contraption that keeps my mouth open. Open enough for ... what, I do not know, but I shudder at the thought. The only response is the chains rattling out their nonsense once again and the distant raving of the damned.

Wearily, I lift my head, tilting my spittle back down my dry throat as I look at the open hole of a window above my head. Between the narrow wooden bars, far too small for me to crawl through even if I had the strength to reach it, a black void brings to me visions from the great hall. Perhaps they can see it, perhaps they cannot, I have no idea, but my hopes of rescue revolve around one singular point. A projection of the silvered hands of the great clock swims in and out of the darkness beyond the sill. I swallow reflexively, and drop my head back down against my breasts, a tear trickling down my snout.


My name is Rhylith and I am a Draconis. Born to a wealthy family, I was privileged enough to be sent off to study the arcane and secret majiks of our clan at a very young age. My instructor was intrigued at my talent, and impressed by the intuitive nature of my quick and agile mind. As it was, shi advanced me quickly through the basics. The work was hard, but gratifying as I adhered to my studies, progressing much faster than hir previous students.

But the young are as the young will ever be. I was no different; I possessed a natural curiosity tempered by a complete disregard for rules and quenched in the vats of impertinence. My mistress had told me to be wary of wandering in hir castle, especially at night; furthermore, shi forbade me from entering the northern wing. Generally, I obeyed my instructor's wishes without question, but on several nights when the moon was new and dark, something piqued my interest.

During the process of my physical maturation, I developed an urge in the middle of the night. My body complaining about its needs would wake me at odd times and insist that I relieve myself. Not being one to revel in my own filth, I would quietly pad naked to the privy down the hall. Along the route, I would pass across the balcony overlooking the great hall and occasionally catch the thin and unclothed form of my teacher disappearing into the large door blocking the path to the north wing.

This progressed for some time. Never did I ask of my instructor what shi was doing at that time for fear of breaking some unspoken rule; rather, I contented myself to merely watch and observe at this time. Patiently, I took mental notes and tried to not stare during lessons as I found myself becoming rather fond of this intrigue.

Ah, the demons of puberty. The raw hormones that course through the body, singing songs of erotic passions and needs. I knew much about the functions of sex within our hermaphrodite race, but did not realize the strength and fervor which my yearnings would eventually grip me. Studies researched in the library had revealed the mechanics of the sexual act, but it was private experimentation with my own body that would unlock the full, raw power of my desires. Through these experiments, I discovered the joys of masturbation and the interesting advantages to having a rather flexible, reptilian body. The wonderful taste of my own seed and the heavenly, flavourful scent of my own, ripening pussy did not escape my notice, especially during the summer month of my first heat.

This night was no different then the others in the past month, except it was once again a new moon. The summer air was rather warm and somewhat humid, lending the bed the feel of sleeping close to a lover. My restless mind tossed and turned my body about on the bed, slowly tangling the sheet about me, rubbing gently against my sheath. The rough fabric also wedged into the lips at my crotch and began to tickle sensitive, virgin areas.

Oh, the scenes that played out behind my eyes! I hugged my pillow and rocked my hips gently as I slept. It was hir! My instructor's mouth and body, that I lusted against! In secret had I yearned for this sordid and possibly forbidden union. Our flesh entwined in glorious sexual passion as I licked hir body and sampled the juices of hir fountain.

Alas! The fantasy never was to be. For, as my dream neared the peak of concupiscence, my eyes flew open and shredded the fabric of my created reality.


The sudden thud of my cell door wakes and startles me, shaking the cobwebs of memory from my brain. A thin, clear line of spittle drips from the tube as I pull my head up to stare at the hulking form of my demonic captor.

An inky dark aura seeps from its black, cloven hooves, writhing across the floor. Red skin binds heavily muscled digitigrade legs, all the way up to a tattered and leathery loincloth. Swollen veins twist about its legs, pulsing gently beneath a thin coating of coarse, soot-stained hair. The same hair grows in thick patches across its abdomen and chest, hiding the bulky, well-stacked physique. Brawny arms, one, terminating in a stubby three-fingered hand and thumb, the other in a long, prehensile, tentacle-like appendage flex slowly as it stands by the door. Its head, simply put, squats squid-like on a pair of wide, blocky shoulders. What I assume is the cranial area appears to breathe, glistening wetly in the ruddy, flickering light as a beard of suckered tentacles squirm and twist beneath its bulbous eyes.

"Wouuub chexXsz kfpuudjek," it chortles before emitting a sound that I can only describe as deep, burbling laughter. Chilling, cruel laughter as its eyes rove over my body, pausing twice. A thick, warted tongue-like thing flashes from the squirming beard, licking across the tentacles before retreating back beneath the fleshy mass. "Jub ko'tuu," it rumbles.

My eyes widen in horror as it walks toward me. The crudely sewn loincloth juts away from the thing's body, barely concealing a large and obvious erection. Intent is apparent even before the tentacled left arm curled under my chin. Strange that the gesture, of itself, was tender and almost sensual in its own right, but any similarities to such intimacy ends when one takes into account the entire situation. I am to be its fuck toy.

The creature turns slightly, releasing my chin and pulling a lever on the wall. There arose a gentle rumbling as my leg manacles suddenly loosened. At the same time, the chains leading to the ceiling pull me forward to the center of the room. A twinge of panic stabs across my being as my legs' progress is impeded by the manacles, yet the arm bindings continue to stretch away. Suddenly, I'm jerked backwards, swinging towards the wall as the leg chains tighten and begin to creep towards the ceiling.

The entire time, the demon watches me, laughing occasionally at my feeble grunts and futile protests. Soon enough, I'm struggling weakly against the manacles as I'm suspended inches from the flagstones. My motions set me swinging gently, face down with my legs and arms splayed out in the "St. Andrew's Cross". I grunt in pain as my weight bears down on my shoulders and hips, whimpering even as spittle drips from the brass tube onto the dirty stone floor.

Chortling its alien laughter again, the demon fiddles with something else. What that it does, I do not know as I can not see the thing from my current position; instead, I hear the sounds of another lever clicking into place. Unused mechanicals squeal in protest for a moment but give way to the sound of stone grinding on stone. Several of the tiles begin to ascend toward me and eventually lift me higher. The chains retract as I rise, keeping a small amount of tension on my limbs to minimise struggling. Still, though breathing is somewhat difficult, I collapse against the stone, relaxing my body at this unexpected blessing.

The grinding stops and the underlaying psychotic babble fades back in. I'm left partially suspended by the thick iron chains and resting on a flagstone pedestal. The chill stone presses cruelly into my chest and I pull in on the arm chains, attempting to shift my bosom to a more comfortable position. It's no use though. I only succeed in rasping the tips of my breasts painfully against the stones.

Mutely, I turn my head over and focus over my limp tail on the squid-headed creature. It's back is to me as it reaches down to unhook the belt holding the leather fabric at its waist. The thing's naked buttocks flex and ripple slightly while it shifts to hang the clothing on the levers. Dirt grinds against stone under its hoof as it pivots to face my prone body. My eyes widen in horror as it stands naked before me. Instinctually, I fight against my binds, not caring that I nearly rip a nipple off in the process. I grunt out distorted yelps of protest, shaking my head and slinging saliva as I spasm futilely in the chains.

I hear the heavy thud of its feet as it closes the distance. "Gnghgkzzdksh!" it hisses, pulling its tentacled arm back. With a thick, meaty "whop!" the blow lands heavily across my buttocks, traveling up my spine to my shoulder blades. The tip of the impromptu whip licks into my left armpit. The force momentarily crushes my chest into the pillar, nearly pulls my arms from their sockets and knocks the breath from my body. My cry of pain turns into a whoosh and squeak. The hellish world swims before my eyes as I cough and sputter, struggling to regain my wind.


What a dream it was! Never before had I experienced such an erotic fantasy while sleeping. I woke, restless and so near the brink of orgasm that I'd nearly sprayed my spunk across the bed. Quickly, I shifted to the floor and began suckling and licking my cock while a finger worked my clit. I peaked almost instantly, flooding my mouth with sweet blasts of hot cum while my slit spilled its juices over my scaled fingers.

Calmly, I sat on the cool stone, waiting for my penis to completely retract. The throbbing organ showed no sign of diminishing, though, despite the pleasuring I had given it so recently. Slowly, almost lovingly, I licked the remaining dribbles of semen off the tip and leaned my back against the side of the bed. My tail curled under the mattress, the tip twitching occasionally in the dust bunnies and my arms hung limply at my sides. My left hand relaxed on top of my thigh while the other gently brushed against the outer folds of my very wet vaginal slit, reveling in the orgasmic afterglow.

I decided to wash up before heading back to bed, and relieve myself as well. Perhaps a trip to the loo would encourage my erection to fade. Standing wobbly at first, I steadied and made my way out of my room, preceded by my still pulsing shaft. As usual, I took no candle with me, relying, instead, on my excellent night vision. I crept to the balcony with no incident, pausing to look over the great hall to the north wing.

Shining through the crystal panes of the third floor conservatory's large skylight, feeble starlight cast a wan glow across the open floor of the great hall and rendered the scene into shades of soft grey and deep shadow. A slight stirring in the air brought the myriad of night scents across my nose. Jasmine and honeysuckle as well as night-blooming water lilly from the roof gardens drifted in through the round hole of the upper floor's balcony. The only noises I could hear were the soft sound of my breathing, the gentle pulse of my heart and the faint tick of the large clock in the great hall. Everything else was still. Even the insects had bedded down and were silent.

And that's why I paused. The silence. It was a silence of ... anticipation.

The tinkling tones of the clock shattered the moment, announcing two hours had passed since midnight. As the last echoes faded, I shifted again towards the privy, mentally sighing. I took no more than two short steps before I heard the sound of another set of claws clicking on the bare stone below. I froze and crouched into the deeper shadow of the railing, peering between the balusters.

Slowly, my instructor walked from the western hall, passing the clock and into the cone of light from above. Hir scales, normally shades of brilliant purple, washed to neutral shades in the dim light as shi progressed to the locked north wing door. Shi and I were clothed almost alike: naked scales and starlight. Though, shi had a thin, gauzy shrift thrown about hir shoulders. It billowed behind like gossamer streamers of smoke or spider's silk in the breeze of hir walk.

I inhaled sharply, nearly gasping aloud as I saw that shi too was fully erect. All other times before, I'd only seen hir tail, or a glimpse of leg vanishing into the dark throat of the north wing's hall. My mind sped up, slowing my perception of time down to savour this unique and rare gift. At the same time, it overlaid the scene in living colour as my cock throbbed painfully in my crotch.

Just staring at the forbidden object of my secret, lustful dreams was enough to bring me near to a shuddering orgasm. Slow, deep breaths pulled in and out of my body as I fought for control, trying hard not to moan. I gripped the colonnades tightly, digging my talons into the carved granite to keep my hands from my crotch and my seed from splattering into the hallway below.

My racing mind spun out every detail out as my naked instructor sashayed to the grand clock. I watched as shi posed in front of it, running a clawed hand down hir scaled breasts to grip at hir jutting cock. Shi stroked its length before squeezing down on it and pulled from the base to the tip. My mouth dropped open with a soft gasp as shi brought those talons to hir lips and licked the heavenly taste from them.

Briefly, I considered running to hir and declaring my passion. I would fall to my knees, and take my teacher's glorious cock in my mouth and suckle the sweet seed from hir body. Yes, shi would stare down at me, watching with lust tinged eyes as I worked hir flesh. So help me, I nearly did it. As I shifted to stand and head toward the stairs, a small chunk of stone dislodged from the barrister and fell to a bare spot on the floor below.

The sound of the pebble striking stone was no more than naked talons would on the flags of the hall. In the darkness and silence of this night, it was as thunder to my ears. I dove hurriedly into the shadows again, fearful that I had been betrayed by the same fate that had granted me this secret show. If my teacher heard, shi gave no outward sign. Shi merely opened the crystal of the grand clock's face and withdrew a small key.

Leaving the clock open, shi faced the north wing door and ascended the two small stairs to the threshold. I could see hir looking down as shi inserted the key into the lock.


The beast stomps heavily around my suspended body and its cock wiggles obscenely with every tread until it stops in front of me. Directly at eye level, the warted shaft pulses with its own life, leaking fluid from a dozen different orifices. Each discharge is timed with a slight contraction at its sack, shortly thereafter, the oozing holes vomit the thin essence of demonic life. Already the sparse hair of its groin shows a wet trail where the liquid has been flowing into the pelt of its legs.

My study is cut short as the demon grabs the back of my head with its clawed hand and turns my eyes upwards. "Jubwb'bwwv," it says before shoving my head down to its cock. It slips neatly through the brass tube and the unholy rape begins.

I am unable to gain leverage against the shove and gag as the demon's shaft enters my mouth. I am unable to close my teeth on the vile pole as it begins to expand in my maw. I am unable to scream as the dripping flesh snakes into my throat. It writhes with a life of its own, squirming into my esophagus, seeking the deepest recesses of my oral passages. By some unknown reason, I am still able to breathe as it begins to rock its hips. The long tentacle of its cock slides in and out, pushing deeper into my gullet as I repeatedly gag against the invader to its obvious delight.

As I wiggle and struggle, impaled on the demon's flesh, I can feel its claws digging into the back of my head. My body heaves in another attempt to retch, more intense than the last. The rippling muscle spasm squeezes up the entire length of the cock. It expresses its delight with a grunt, clenching its talons. There is a brief flare of pain and then I feel a warm trickle down behind my ears.

It thrusts forward again, pushing its demonic member in to its limit. I can feel the rippling pulses travel down my gullet as my stomach begins to fill with its warm semen. It groans loudly, lowering its tentacle arm and slapping lightly down my back. It caresses my rump tenderly before seeking other, more intimate areas.

My tail clamps down, denying the fleshy probe access to its goal. I wrap the tail about my waist, protecting my as-yet unspoiled virginity from the beast's advance. My unholy suitor pauses and rotates my head to the side, staring into one eye.

"Shithththh k'jjook!" it rumbles, tapping the barrier I've placed above my genital slit.

I merely grunt in reply, keeping my tail firmly in place.

"Shithththh k'jjook!" the demon rasps, louder and more forcefully. Again, tapping at the wrapped flesh of my tail.

This time, I shake my head. An odd feeling indeed with the thing's enormous, twitching phallus crammed down my throat, but I pay it little mind. This beast, this demon, this ... THING was not going to take me like this. "Go to hell, you fucking freak," I thought at it as loud as I could.

The demon cocks its head to one side as my mental scream lashes out at it. It pauses, retracting its member slightly and blinks owlishly, twice. Then, with a nod it yanks its hips backwards, ripping its flesh from my gut.

Pain. Unbelievable pain. Face down, I retch the milky demon seed from my abused body. Thickened curdles of semen laced with blood spewed past the hard iron and brass of the facial cage to mingle with the filth on the floor. Each heave of my stomach wracks my body with even more agony as caustic fluids pass over bruised and torn tissue.

Eventually, my stomach ends the violent revolt and I weakly slump in my binds, resting my chest on the raised platform. Sometime during my incapacitation, the creature had either raised the platform or lowered the chains holding me in place. A quick observation told me that the platform had indeed been raised. Two semi-circular iron rings, anchored to either side of the pillar near the floor are now exposed.

The demon walks over to my trussed up form. "Shithththh k'jjook!" it rumbles, pointing at my lower body. "Ugh'ju twupbphwa, judtada k'jibwa."

Somehow I'd managed to keep my tail locked about my waist while vomiting. I merely shake my head in a silent refusal. I may not be innocent, but my virginity would be mine to give. I squeeze my hips with my tail, denying the hellish beast his prize.

It rolls its shoulders in a grotesque semblance of a shrug before clomping to the chains holding my arms. A tentacle wraps around the forged iron about eight links up from my wrist. The link parts easily under its grip and it yanks my arm down to the lower iron ring. It parts the metal again and clamps it into the ring near the floor. My other arm is treated in similar fashion. With the weight of my body now pressing my chest into the pillar breathing becomes more difficult. The familiar whistle of air reaches my ears moments before the meaty crack of flesh on flesh confirms its intent. Blow after punishing blow stripes across my back. Agony reaches a fever pitch, promising only one sweet escape. Mercifully, I pass out.


Even after the last spidery threads of my teacher's cloak vanished into the impossible darkness beyond the threshold, the door remained open. Silently, it beckoned to me. Called to me. Dared me to enter and follow with foolish, youthful promises.

Why the door remained open, I shall never guess. Previously, the mistress had slipped through a bare crack in the portal, barely slipping through before the latch clicked against the jamb. Perhaps I had been heard, perhaps it was a test.

I crouched on the balcony for what felt like an hour, torn between my imaginative curiosity and the sudden, insistent urge of my bladder. I had only to get up and continue on my way to the toilet like I'd always done before and this would still be a night to not forget. Then, the door began to creep shut. The vertical crack in the side of the north wing narrowed, slowly.


The world throbs back into focus. I had lost count of the lashes after twenty, passing out in the torrent of pain. Sometime during the blackout period, the demon moved my legs to the floor, chaining them to the same rings as my wrists. My tail is still clamped down and wrapped about my waist, but my back is bruised and battered. I crane my neck back as much as possible, afraid to look, but I must survey the damage. Dark stripes of welted flesh greet my eyes. Some of the bruises are oozing a clear, yellowish fluid from the center, crusting slowly in the dank air and some leak dark blood.

I draw a ragged breath. A dull ache covers the entire chest, but a sharp pain pierces my side. A spasming cough wracks me and I can taste blood. The force of the blows must have compressed my body against the pillar, breaking a rib.

I am alone. When it left me, I do not know. The leather loincloth is no longer hanging from the levers. Apparently the tormentors in this hell have a dress code when not in a cell. I look back up at the darker patch beyond the barred window. The clock is still there, but looks faded and harder to see. When it is gone, so will be my hopes of escape, of life ... of sanity, for here I will remain. Oh, teacher, how I regret disobeying you now!

In the distance, I hear the rumbling of wooden wheels along the stone corridors. It grows louder, approaching the open door of my cell. Underneath the drone of the wheels, I can hear the staccato jangling of metal on metal. Providing a steady beat to this tormented symphony, the individual tread of something very heavy, and the thick, chortling voice of my tormentor.

A light haze drifts across the portal, swirling as the familiar, tentacled face of the demon shuffles into view. Over its shoulder a taut rope connects to the source of the brimstone scents. A glowing brazier, reeking of burning coal and hot metal, sits on top of a wooden cart of some sort. Several long metal handles protrude from the smoking cauldron. Below the cart top, several wicked looking tools sway from hooks. I close my eyes and inhale slowly, nodding almost imperceptibly and dropping my head back down. I do not bother watching the creature set up.

"Shithththh k'jjook!" it says after a while, grabbing my tail base with its tri-pronged palm and attempts to pull it away.

I clamp down yet again and mutely refuse to give in. It removes its hand from my body, and I tense up, waiting for the whistle of its lash to strike me. The blow never falls. Instead, the unmistakable sound of a sharpening stone on steel splits the relative silence before it speaks again.

"Quad'dchi thoridak zubj'joo. Shetah'teth kloopla'tah, k'jibwah," it rumbles, walking around to my slumped head. The creature pulls my hair, forcing me to look at his squirming face. "Ugh'ju twupbphwa, judtada k'jibwa, Shithththh k'jjook!" The final request is accompanied by a brandishing of a sickle shaped tool. The thick wooden handle, stained a darker brown and worn smooth from use, displays several darker splotches of what I can only assume is blood. The demon slowly brings the tool's tip very close to my left eye, rotating it, allowing me to see the razor edge and needle point. Then, the thing gestures toward my tail with it. "Ugh'ju twupbphwa, judtada k'jibwa," it repeats, with a slicing motion.

I give no response.

The creature drops my head and stomps over to the cauldron. A shower of sparks cascade over the lip and a wide, flat piece of glowing iron emerges. Quickly, it turns, and before I can feel it, my tail is sliced from my body. Blood showers from the parted flesh, splashing across my thighs. Then just as the realization hits me that it's been removed, the horrid stench of seared flesh and boiled blood explode as the spade of hot metal is pressed to the stump. Gibbering and slavering, I add my screech of pain and torment to the cacophony. Shattered teeth fall from a bleeding mouth as the demon throws the tools, the loincloth and the still twitching remains of my tail to the corner.

The last things I feel before merciful darkness overtakes me are the bare, hairy hips sliding up to my exposed female sex, and the warted tentacle of its cock parting my pussy lips.

[To be continued](/?page=To_be_continued)